


Picking Fights

by Stratagem



Series: What Could Be [8]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Prompt Fill, Thunderblink kids, short story multipart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13715205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stratagem/pseuds/Stratagem
Summary: Hope inherited that whole fight-when-you-need-to trait from her parents. JD is more of a pacifist. John and Clarice are quietly proud of their kids.





	Picking Fights

**Author's Note:**

> Hope is eight, JD is twelve, John and Clarice are exasperated yet proud.

“That’s what you get for picking fights.” JD made a face at Hope but he was gentle as he dabbed at her split lip, cleaning up the blood that had dribbled down her chin. “You’re smarter than that.”

“It was worth it,” Hope said, “And I didn’t pick the fight. He did. I just ended it.” She hissed as JD brushed the paper towel against the scrapes on her face. “That stings.”

“It’s going to hurt way worse in a minute,” he said, gesturing to the antiseptic bottle on the counter. They were hiding out in the bathroom while JD patched up Hope, both of them trying to keep Hope out of their parents’ sight until she looked less like a scrappy mess. It was late afternoon and the only reason that John and Clarice weren’t home was because most of the adults were up at the main building, talking about the drones that kept flying over HQ’s sprawling campus.

There were blocks and wards and shields galore in place to keep HQ from being found, but still, it was unsettling for everyone to see the drones keep coming back. Tensions were high for everyone, and the kids who lived at HQ weren’t immune. While JD drove his worry inward, Hope’s usually turned her fear into anger.

When he had found Hope, she was sitting on a boy’s back, shoving his face into the dirt as she yelled at him as a bunch of other kids around her age circled them. She had been a tiny whirlwind of rage as he plucked her up, her arms still whirling as she tried to get another swing in. 

“You don’t have to use that,” Hope said, brown eyes narrowing at the bottle, “It’s not gonna get infected or anything.”

“Not with that on it, it won’t,” JD said. He tossed the used paper towel away and pulled another off the roll he had brought along with the first aid kit. He soaked it in hydrogen peroxide and patted the scrape on the right side of her face. “What’d you do, get dragged through the gravel?”

“Sort of. It was the riverbank rocks,” she said, wincing, “Think it’ll scar?”

“Nah,” he said, capping the bottle of peroxide and setting it the side. “Keep that ice on your eye, it’ll swell.”

“It feels like it’s freezing my skin off. I think I’m getting frostbite,” she complained, but she settled the cloth-wrapped ice back against her eye.

For a while, JD worked in silence, carefully getting the blood off his little sister’s face and arm. He soaked half of a paper towel in antiseptic and dabbed it on her cuts, and to her credit, she just winced and shied away from him instead of crying. “Stay still.”

“I’m trying,” she said, fingers scrabbling against the bathroom counter. She finally grabbed onto the counter edge and gripped it hard, her eyes shut tight. “Ow, ow…”

“You should’ve come and got me,” JD said, “Or anyone, really. You could’ve yelled and Mom and  Dad would’ve been there in five seconds. You didn’t have to handle it yourself.”

“No one else was going to,” Hope said, “And I couldn’t wait. He was going to break Emile’s arm.” She pointedly didn’t say anything about yelling for their parents, but JD guessed why she didn’t. With everything going on, she probably didn’t want to bother them with one more thing if she thought she could take care of it on her own.

“You don’t know that Sam would’ve broken Emile’s arm,” JD said. He put the paper towel in the trash and grabbed the tube of Neosporin. He wanted to be thorough so maybe their parents wouldn’t freak out so much whenever they came home. It was probably wishful thinking.

Hope huffed and sat back. “Yes, I do. Sam doesn’t even know how strong he is, and he’s always teasing Emile. And he was mad ‘cause Emile finally caught an attitude with him and talked back today.”

“All right, but you could have just grabbed Emile and teleported away,” JD countered, “You didn’t have to fight Sam.”

She looked at him and shook her head. “Did too. If I didn’t, he’d just do it again tomorrow, like he did yesterday and the day before that.”

“I hope you’re happy with the results,” JD said.

Hope half-smiled. “I am. ‘cept I’m sorta mad about my leggings. I liked these.”

JD leaned back and looked at her, tamping down his own frustration and anger. She was bruised and her bright pink leggings were ripped, and there was a blood stain on her shirt. He didn’t like seeing his little sister hurt, but he was proud of her, even if he would never say it. She had stood up for Emile, a skinny kid whose parents had gotten captured by Sentinel Services.

Since he had gotten to HQ, Emile had spent most of his time hiding and crying, and Sam had latched onto him as an easy target while Hope had decided to protect him. The adults had been trying to stop Sam for a long time, but none of their talks or consequences seemed to work. With all the tension in camp, everything must have escalated to a point where Hope felt like she had to take action or the cycle of bullying would never end.

JD was about to tell her to go change clothes when the sound of the cabin door opening made them both freeze.

“Hope Maria Proudstar, we need to have a talk.”

At the sound of her dad’s voice, Hope looked at her brother. “I don’t wanna talk, I’m not sorry…” Her eyes suddenly lit up. “I’m not here.”

“No, no,” JD warned, shaking his head at her, “Don’t you—”

“Hope,” John said in the same tone, having heard her thanks to his enhanced hearing.

“Bye!” Hope said, and an instant later, she shimmered away, teleporting out of the house and leaving him behind to deal with their dad.


End file.
